


A Soul For A Soul

by IriSelkie



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Endgame Fixit Fic, F/M, Pining, Two idiots who don't know how to feelings, endgame spoilers, romanogers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-03-06 03:45:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18842968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IriSelkie/pseuds/IriSelkie
Summary: (Endgame Spoilers)Steve leaves the Soul Stone for last.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The warning for "major character death" is due to the nature of the Endgame spoilers - no one actually dies in this fic but I wanted to warn for death imagery regardless.

Steve returned the Soul Stone last. He knew he should have just gotten it over with, ripped the bandaid off at the outset, but as he made his journey through time, he kept putting it off. Natasha’s words echoed in his mind every time he thought about it, twisting his heart like a vice.

_See you in a minute._

Had she known, even then? Nebula had mentioned that Vormir was where Thanos had killed Gamora, but Steve hadn’t made the connection back then.  Natasha could have, but if she had, she hadn’t said anything. Every waking moment, he wished he could have taken her place. But what was done was done, and he had to move on. 

Saving the Soul Stone until last felt like he was hanging onto Natasha somehow, and a stupid part of him was reluctant to give that feeling up. He told himself over and over throughout his travels that Natasha was dead, but thoughts of her wouldn’t leave her head, and they were nearly torturous at this point. Still, though, torture was better than nothing at all. 

There were so many things left unsaid between them, and although Steve wasn’t sure if he would have ever gotten around to saying them, Natasha’s death was the most abrupt sort of pain, yet another person he cared about ripped away from him. They had never put a label on their relationship throughout the years, and Steve imagined that if he asked Natasha, an applicable label would be “friends.” It felt deeper on his end, though, and the word “partners” felt more correct in his head, even though he doubted Natasha would agree. They had orbited around each other for so many years, keeping each other steady in the face of chaos, that now that she was gone, Steve felt like he was spinning off his metaphorical axis. He would have to learn how to be steady again. 

When he could delay it no longer, Steve arrived on Vormir in 2014, shortly after Clint had disappeared with that timeline’s Soul Stone.  Hiding behind a rock, he watched him go, and then he crept out onto the cliff, shivering from the cold. 

Natasha had died here, freezing and in pain. 

The thought twisted at his heart again, and it was all he could do not to fall to his knees, grief washing over him like a tsunami. He was all too aware of the presence of the Soul Stone in his pocket, and he took it out with a shaking hand, hating its orange glow and the sacrifice that had been required to retrieve it. Natasha had done what was necessary and had died a hero, but none of that lessened Steve’s pain. He also knew that had he been in her position, he would have done the exact same thing, but he hadn’t had the chance.

“It shouldn’t have been you, Natasha.” Steve’s voice was barely a whisper, hoarse and quiet in the howling wind. He felt another sick jolt when he realized that Natasha’s body was likely still down below the cliffs, and that she had only died moments ago. He didn’t dare look over the edge, knowing that would be his undoing. Instead, he walked backwards toward the edge, not knowing how to go about this. The guardian Clint had mentioned did not appear to guide Steve, so Steve did the only thing he could. 

Reaching his hand backward, Steve dropped the Soul Stone into the abyss, feeling part of his heart fall with it. He closed his eyes, sinking to his knees and letting out a choked sob, knowing there was no one to hear him here. The wind howled around him, his eyes still closed, and he nearly considered letting himself stay here and freeze, anything to numb the pain. 

When Steve finally opened his eyes, something was flickering in front of him, and as its outline materialized into view, his first thought was that he must be hallucinating. Either that, or this was some cruel trick. Natasha’s motionless form appeared in front of him in the snow, and seeing her prone and broken made him howl with pain, his voice disappearing in the wind. Never in his life had he wanted to see her like this, lifeless and battered. 

Then his eyes caught motion, and he scrambled toward Natasha, hardly daring to hope. When he got close, his heart leapt into his throat.  Natasha was breathing, just barely, by some incredible miracle. 

_A soul for a soul._

The words echoed in his mind, but they weren’t his voice, and he shook his head to clear it, disturbed. Then the urgency of the situation finally hit him, and he scooped Natasha into his arms, wincing as he felt her broken bones. Neither of them would last long out here, and if there was any chance to save Natasha, he had to go. He had returned all the stones, and Natasha was his mission now.

The next day or so was a blur, and it was all Steve could do to keep himself together. Bruce did what he could to stabilize Natasha until more help arrived, and soon, she was whisked away to be scanned and treated in Wakanda, since the Avengers facility had been entirely destroyed in the battle against Thanos. A hospital could fix Natasha’s physical injuries, but no one knew what else Vormir’s environmental conditions and the Soul Stone itself had done, and once they had established contact, it was agreed that it was best left to Shuri and her team. Steve stayed at her side the entire time, only leaving when Shuri shooed him aside to work on Natasha. 

After what seemed like ages, Natasha was stabilized and recovering, although she would be in a lot of pain for the forseeable future. Steve had fallen asleep at her bedside after letting Clint and the others know that she was going to be all right, and he had taken her hand without really thinking about it. 

When he felt a squeeze, he lifted his head out of his doze, his eyes meeting Natasha’s in a way that made his throat choke up with tears. Natasha spoke, her voice hoarse, and it was all Steve could do not to tell her to quiet down, to rest. 

“That was a long minute.” Natasha’s voice was exhausted, and Steve squeezed her hand in return, as if that would help at all. Natasha never really acknowledged the magnitude of the things she was going through, always preferring to cover it with jokes or minimize it entirely. Now was no exception, and her blank calm was entirely opposed to the rush of Steve’s emotions. 

“You’re going to be okay,” Steve forced out, discreetly wiping at his eyes with his free hand. Natasha managed a weak little laugh.

“Are you crying over me, Rogers?” 

“You _died._ ” 

“I know.” There was a long pause. “I’m sorry.”  
  
“Don’t be.” Steve shook his head. “You saved everyone. We won.” That earned a faint smile from Natasha, even if it was more of a pained grimace. 

“Ha – good. It was worth it, then.” Natasha closed her eyes again, letting out a soft hiss of pain. “Feel like I’ve been hit by a truck, though. ...how am I alive?” 

“The Soul Stone gave you back when I returned it.” Steve didn’t know anything about the mechanics of the Soul Stone or why it could revive someone from the dead, but he was damn grateful. Natasha was here, _alive,_ and they might finally have some peace.

All those unsaid things came rushing back into his mind, making his heart pound. Someday he’d have to say them, but not now. Natasha needed to rest, and he wasn’t about to burden her with his feelings. 

“Does Clint know?” Steve felt a strange pang of what he told himself was absolutely not jealousy when Natasha mentioned Clint first, but he shoved it aside, telling himself that Clint was married, anyway, and that it was irrelevant.

“Yes. Everyone knows. All you have to do is rest,” Steve said, and his cheeks went a little pink when he realized he was still holding her hand. 

“And hold your hand, I’m guessing. That’s cute.” Natasha managed another weak smile, but this one made Steve’s heart do a funny little flip. 

“Again I repeat – you died. I’m allowed to hold my friend’s hand.” There was that word again. _Friend._ He was sure it was what Natasha was most comfortable with, and he told himself not to want more, not to ask for more. It was more than enough of a gift that she was alive. 

“I suppose you are.” Natasha opened her eyes again briefly, looking like she might drift off any second. “I need to sleep. Will you stay?”

“Of course.” 

“Thanks. You can keep holding my hand.” 

Thankfully, Natasha’s eyes closed again before she could see the flush in Steve’s face. He kept his thoughts to himself, letting himself doze in his chair. 

_I would stay forever if you asked._

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update took so long! Hope you like it, though. :) Thanks for reading.

Natasha spent the next week or so in a pain med fueled haze, drifting between sleep and waking. Every time she woke up, Steve was waiting patiently at her side, and most of the time, he was holding her hand. He had only been absent one time in the middle of the night, and the nurse on duty told her the other Avengers had made him go home and get a proper night’s rest. He showed up again the morning after, though, and he was the one, steady constant during her painful recovery.

Clint had showed up many times too, along with the other Avengers, but he had his family to attend to as well, and the rest of the Avengers had their own people, too. _Who did Steve have?_ she thought to herself one day. Sam and Bucky, she supposed, and logically, he should spend more time with them instead of constantly appearing at her bedside. She and Steve were very good friends, of course, but it made more sense for Clint to spend the most time with her. And he _would_ have come in first place in that regard, if not for Steve.

“Oh! You’re awake.” Steve’s eyes flickered open in the chair across from Natasha, where he had been dozing. Natasha had awoken to his hand in hers again, but he looked so exhausted that she hadn’t wanted to wake her up. She tried not to let her mind wander as to why Steve would devote so much time to her, not wanting to get her hopes up. Maybe it was just that her death had especially spooked him – but then again, neither of them were strangers to war and casualty. Natasha knew that if their positions were reversed, she would be doing the same thing, but she knew the reasons why in her case. They were irrelevant, though – Steve deserved someone didn’t come from a background like hers.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you. You looked peaceful.” It wasn’t quite true; he had looked exhausted and stressed, but he still needed the rest, and she was worried about him. She gave his hand a squeeze in apology, and Steve managed a faint smile.

“Unfortunately, the serum didn’t take away my need to sleep. Sometimes I wish it had.” There was something unsaid in the tone he used, and Natasha wondered if he suffered from frequent nightmares like she did. All the Avengers probably did, but none of them ever talked about it – at least not to her. She didn’t blame them, though. She wasn’t about to make someone listen to her Red Room nightmares. And now, even though everything was over, Vormir frequented her nightmares, made more intense by her cocktail of meds, and she had a feeling they wanted to hear about that even less.

“I know that feeling.” Natasha watched him, brushing her thumb idly against his hand. A little flush of pink rose in his cheeks, but Natasha wasn’t entirely sure if it was real, since she was currently high as a kite. _Don’t imagine things you can’t have,_ she told herself, and she pushed the thought away. Just because she had been in love with Steve Rogers for the better part of ten years didn’t mean she needed to _do_ anything about it. Relationships weren’t for people like her. There was a silence, and Natasha spoke again.

“Shuri’s technology is amazing. She told me they did emergency surgery when I first got here, and now there’s a bunch of metal in my back, I think. I was told I should be able to get up and walk soon. I can sit up, at least.” Gingerly and with a wince, Natasha pushed herself up in the hospital bed, tucking her legs under her, and turned to face him. Even though there was still a dull pain through the medicine haze, it felt better to be compact like this – Natasha hated being stretched out and prone. Steve’s eyes widened in alarm and he reached out to stabilize her, his hands resting on her shoulders. The combination of his closeness and the meds made her dizzy, and she swayed a bit, reaching to grab onto his arms for stability.

“Hey, hey, take it easy. You’re the toughest person I know, but I still don’t want you to hurt yourself by going too fast.” Steve was standing now, his hands still on Natasha’s shoulders, and Natasha looked up at him, her hands still on his arms. She waited for the wave of dizziness to subside, and it did after a few moments, but her fast heartbeat remained. That was absolutely Steve’s fault. She was better able to cope with physical contact from him when she wasn’t drugged to hell, and under any other circumstances, she wouldn’t have had that kind of reaction. They held each other like that for a moment, the silence potent.

“I’m – I’m fine. Don’t worry,” Natasha finally managed, but Steve didn’t let go. After a pause, she spoke again, acting on a stupid impulse. “Can I, uh – can I have a hug?” Her voice was almost inaudible, and Steve blinked in surprise. They both knew that she never asked for physical affection, and Clint and Laura were really the only people allowed to hug her. Steve had hugged her on rare occasions, but the situation had called for it. Steve’s cheeks were definitely pink now, but she told herself she couldn’t trust her perceptions if the mere act of sitting up made her dizzy.

“Of course, Nat.” Steve’s arms were around her in an instant as he knelt to hug her, and Natasha barely stopped herself from whimpering from sheer comfort. She hadn’t realized how much she needed this, and his warmth around her absolutely melted her to her core. She buried her face in his shoulder, her arms coming around him as well, holding him tight. Something in her unraveled, and she took a shaky breath, all the emotion she’d been repressing coming to the forefront. Everyone else had been so traumatized from the events on Vormir that she had shoved her own trauma down, assuring them she would be fine. Now, however, she found herself on the verge of tears, her fingers digging into Steve’s shoulders.

“Nat, are you okay? Am I hurting you?” Steve let go, and Natasha reached for him with a choked sob, pulling him back into her arms. Steve’s hand immediately went to her back, stroking gently, and she took another deep breath in, trying not to lose it on his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, just - “ Natasha fumbled for the right words, breathing in his scent to try and calm herself. Steve had been her rock for all these years, and there was no reason that had to stop. “You know how I am about compartmentalization. I put all that Vormir shit in a box in the back of my brain and I think it just leapt out.” At that, Steve moved to sit on the bed beside her, pulling her more fully into his arms, taking care to be gentle with her injuries. Natasha melted into his embrace, masking her tears and lingering terror in his shoulder.

“It’s okay. I know how that is. But you’re safe now. No one’s in any danger.” Steve kept stroking her back, and Natasha wished he would do it forever. Nothing soothed her quite like Steve’s touch, but she told herself not to get used to it. This was far as it would ever go.

“I know, I know,” Natasha said, her voice still shaky. “It’s just – a lot.” She didn’t need to say any more, knowing Steve understood, and she curled up as best she could in his embrace, letting him hold her for as long as he wanted. They fell silent, and slowly, Natasha’s breathing calmed again, and the combination of the meds and Steve’s warmth was beginning to make her drowsy. Before she could be polite and slip out of his embrace, her eyes drifted shut. Steve held her all the while, never letting go.

She awoke once in the middle of the night, realizing that this time, Steve had curled up at her side, and she was on her back again. Steve’s arm was around her middle, though, and his forehead rested gently against her shoulder. Sleepily, she reached a hand down to hold the hand that rested around her middle, but soon, the drugs took her again, lulling her back to sleep.

For the first time in a long while, her mind let her sleep in peace, not a single nightmare in sight.


End file.
